


your name on my lips

by MegTheMighty



Series: 5+1 Names [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: 5+1, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Ishbal | Ishval, Names, Post-Canon, Post-Promised Day, Pre-Canon, Romance, Secret Relationship, Yearning, Young Royai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 11:02:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25968568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MegTheMighty/pseuds/MegTheMighty
Summary: Over the years, Lieutenant Hawkeye is many things to Colonel Mustang; a friend, a subordinate, a partner, a soulmate. They conceal the true nature of their relationship, from both those around them and each other, with formalities and names that don't feel right on their lips.5 times Roy has to call her by another name, and 1 time he can finally call her Riza.
Relationships: Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Series: 5+1 Names [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1943290
Comments: 31
Kudos: 150





	1. Miss

**1902**

When Roy Mustang first arrived at the Hawkeye household, he had no idea what to expect. He had heard that some alchemy teachers were strict and put their students through grueling tasks, while others sometimes took a gentler approach. Despite setting up the arrangement to live with Berthold Hawkeye, he knew next to nothing about the man, besides his obvious mastery of alchemy. 

Roy was surprised to see that Master Hawkeye had a daughter. When Berthold opened the door, he led Roy in with few words. As they entered the house and Roy got a very brief tour of where he was allowed, he saw a younger girl sitting in the kitchen. Her hair was cut short, and her clothes seemed to be a combination of items that were either too big or too small for her frame. Berthold noticed the boy had stopped to look, so he turned around and cleared his throat. Roy saw the girl quickly turn around, forgetting her work of chopping vegetables. 

“This is my new apprentice,” he told her simply. Roy took a step forward and set his small suitcase down to offer his hand.

“I’m Roy,” he said with a small smile. She stood and approached, figuring it was only polite.

“I’m-”

“This is my daughter, Miss Hawkeye,” Berthold interrupted gruffly. “You’re not to bother her.”

And so Roy had kept his distance from her, not wanting to incur the wrath of his master (or Miss Hawkeye herself). She wasn’t hostile toward him by any means, but Roy didn’t exactly sense that she wanted his company. Every time he entered a room that she was in, whether to find a book or grab a quick meal, her demeanor changed. It seemed like she was just waiting for him to leave again. He wouldn’t learn until later that she was simply not used to having someone around, and didn’t know how to react to his presence.

He found himself getting lonely. Back in Central, it was busy and loud and crowded no matter where he went. It was something city-dwellers were likely to complain about, but the electric atmosphere had its charms, which he now missed. The novelty of the silence in the countryside quickly wore off, and Roy could only distract himself by diving further into his studies. He also had some daily chores, presumably things that his teacher didn’t want his daughter doing, like chopping wood and fixing up the roof. 

Roy took it upon himself to make looking after Miss Hawkeye one of his duties as well. It wasn’t that she needed supervision or protection, but he thought it might warm her to him a bit if he made her life easier. Sometimes he would wake up early and start boiling water for Master Hawkeye’s tea, saving her a few minutes as she got ready to leave for school. Other times, he offered to help cook, and dutifully followed her quiet instructions as they made dinner.

One day, Roy was feeling significantly less useful. The weather had been dreary for days, culminating in a strong thunderstorm. It was rarely like that in Central, and he hated the mess that rain seemed to make. He was also at a roadblock in regards to alchemy; Berthold had given him a task that he simply couldn’t decipher. In all, Roy wanted the day to be over as quickly as possible, and sought out Miss Hawkeye to see if they might start dinner early so he could simply go to bed. 

He couldn’t find her anywhere. She wasn’t in the kitchen, the parlor, or the study. Roy didn’t dare enter and check her bedroom, but there was no response to his knock at her door, so he assumed she wasn’t there either. Worry rose in his chest; she shouldn’t have gone out for anything, especially not alone in this weather. He looked out the window and realized that the heavy rain obscured his view past the field, but he could still make out the old barn. He realized the barn door seemed to be open, and that she must have gone out there for some reason.

Roy trudged outside, unable to find an umbrella to protect him. He moved toward the barn as quickly as possible, wondering what would have drawn her out there; they didn’t keep any animals and the building was mainly just used for storage. As Roy approached, Miss Hawkeye’s small figure came into view. She was sitting close to the wall, holding something that was squirming in a towel in her cupped hands. A few steps away from her was an orange tabby cat, laying on newspapers with a few kittens close by.

“Miss Hawkeye?” he said hesitantly. She was startled slightly but quickly recovered.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I was worried so I came looking for you.” She considered him briefly. 

“You’re soaking wet,” she observed.

“Well I thought you were out here and I couldn’t find an umbrella.”

“That’s because I took it,” she explained, tilting her head toward the door, where the umbrella was leaning against the wall. “Don’t you have a raincoat? Or a hat?”

“That’s beside the point. Just come back inside,” he told her. She ignored him and moved toward the cat, placing the kitten in her hands between its newborn siblings. She waited a moment, and saw the mother move closer to the kitten that had just been returned to her, encouraging it to finally suckle. Roy saw her sigh a bit in relief, and crouched down to sit beside her. 

“Do we need to take them inside?” he asked.

“Animals aren’t allowed inside, so no. I just wanted to make sure they were all okay.” She looked a bit sad as she responded. “She’s just a stray, but she’s been staying in here and I realized she was pregnant.”

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No, I think they’ll all be fine for now. We can go back.” She stood and brushed off the dirt and hay that had accumulated on her skirt. Roy grabbed the umbrella, opening it to cover both of them.

“You don’t have to do any of this, you know, only what my father tells you to. You’re a guest,” she said gently.

“Exactly, I’m a guest,” he affirmed. “Which means I’m not going to take advantage of your hospitality by sitting on my ass all day.”

He paused for a moment, seeing surprise on her face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to use that language in front of you, Miss Hawkeye.”

“It’s okay, I’m just surprised you think that way. And you don’t have to call me that,” she replied. Roy gave her a questioning look.

“You can just use my real name,” she insisted. Roy hadn’t even learned her first name until a week into his apprenticeship. Her father had yelled it from upstairs in one of the few interactions he had seen between the family members. It was a pretty name, though. Uncommon, yet familiar, gentle, and feminine. 

“Alright,” he agreed. “Does this mean we’re friends?”

She nodded shyly as they made it to the back door. Roy shook the umbrella out before placing it back in the closet. They heard movement from the other room, realizing that Master Hawkeye must have come downstairs.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome, Miss Hawkeye.” 

She was about to correct him when she saw the grin on his face and a wink that she almost missed. Her father was in the next room after all, and Roy didn’t want to get in trouble with him just yet. Nonetheless, that was the last time he called her anything but her first name for a long while.


	2. Cadet

When he saw her again in Ishval, she wasn’t the same girl who grew up in a countryside house; who snuck out to rescue newborn kittens; who dutifully took care of a dying man; who served excellent tea just as he liked; who he had called “Riza.” Then again, he wasn’t the same boy that she had called “Roy” either. Every time they saw each other in passing, few words were spoken. There’s an understanding between them that no one should know of their intertwined pasts. She’s Cadet Hawkeye and he’s Major Mustang, that’s all. 

It seemed that with the combination of merciless State Alchemists, deadly snipers, and relentless infantry, the war would soon end. He knew that not much time had passed since his deployment, but it felt like he had spent centuries in Ishval. He wasn’t sure which was more oppressive, the heat or the constant thoughts in his head that called him _monster_.

After their encounter with Major Kimblee, he could see that she was constantly unnerved. The man had been antagonizing both of them, yet Mustang’s reaction bordered on that of a protective boyfriend. He knew that wasn’t how they could think of each other, not anymore, and Hawkeye had probably disapproved. She had always been a fairly serious girl; he remembered how he thought she didn’t like him when he first went to live with the Hawkeyes. Now, her seriousness had an edge to it. He saw it in her eyes, how they didn’t soften the same way anymore. They used to be sympathetic and tender. When he met her gaze in Ishval, he saw them soften in sadness, in defeat, in understanding of the terrible things they had both done.

‘She has the eyes of a killer now,’ Mustang reminded himself. ‘No thanks to you and the ideas you put in her head.’

He insisted on walking her back toward the main encampment. Hughes was with them as well, staying uncharacteristically quiet. He probably sensed the tension between them. After all, as much as Mustang had objected to discussing sweethearts and loved ones at war, he hadn’t completely neglected to tell his best friend about the girl he knew back home when they were at the academy. 

“I have to check in with Colonel Hansen,” Hughes broke the silence. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Major.”

They were alone for the first time since before she had joined the military. Mustang continued to walk by her side as they approached her unit’s tents. 

“I’ll be fine for the night, Major,” Hawkeye said quietly. She turned and saluted, expecting him to walk away.

“I don’t want you to be alone. I know this has all been affecting you, especially what Kimblee said.”

“I share a tent with another sniper, I won’t be alone,” she replied simply.

“That’s not what I meant,” he persisted. Apparently her stubbornness hadn’t changed.

“You’re a superior officer,” she reminded him in a quieter voice. “It wouldn’t be appropriate for you to be seen near my quarters. Please, we both need rest.” Her words were short, as if she was forcing them out. 

“No one is paying any attention to us,” he insisted. “I don’t mean anything untoward, I just want to be sure you’re okay. Come on Riz-”

“Sir!” she whispered sharply. 

Her eyes gave a warning not to finish her name. He had said it many times: when they first became friends, in all the letters they exchanged after he left, when her father died, as he studied her naked back. Her name was in all those moments where she had meant so much to him, and now she was denying him that.

“Please,” she repeated. 

He realized that she was right to deny him. He didn’t deserve to gain comfort from her once again, not after he betrayed her trust. Calling her “Riza” had been a privilege she gave to him, back on that rainy day in the miserable countryside that he missed so much. Maybe hearing her first name had been a privilege for her as well, when almost everyone else would call her “Miss Hawkeye.” But they had both made their choices. He held a slight hope that someday they could go back to being the idealistic friends they had once been, or maybe even more. That hope gave him the power to walk away, at least for now.

“Goodbye, Cadet Hawkeye.”

The rest of the night Mustang laid awake, haunted yet again. How could it have all gone so wrong? How could he have been so naive? How could he possibly believe in making things right? He tried to organize his thoughts and determine where he would go if he made it out of the war. For some reason, every option, every future, included her.


	3. Lieutenant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter that inspired this whole fic, so I'm very excited to share it. After rewatching the scene where Riza tricks Envy, I wondered why they never used their first names even when they were alone, and decided they must have talked about it at some point. 
> 
> Cue post-Ishval angst and, of course, the yearning.

**1909**

The first few months after returning from Ishval were the hardest. There were nights when neither of them could sleep, often resulting in hushed phone calls to soothe each other’s nightmares. It took her time to forgive him even a little, and part of her wondered if she ever fully would. But if she couldn’t forgive him, how could she ever live with herself? That thought, along with his promises of change and justice, made it easier to reconcile.

Working together came naturally. Their progress was slow at first, as they searched the military for appropriate additions to their team, but Hawkeye took the long hours in stride. She had recently been promoted to the rank of Second Lieutenant, earning a pay raise and more responsibilities. Mustang, on the other hand, was working on developing his reputation around Eastern Headquarters. He proposed that being seen as a lazy, womanizing officer would protect him against any higher-ups that might otherwise sense his true ambition. Surprisingly, his subordinate agreed with the plan.

“Don’t you think it might reflect poorly on you to be serving under me if the general consensus is that I’m a complete ass?” he questioned. She didn’t look up from her paperwork. Their office was empty, providing a moment of privacy for their conversation, but she still refused to pull herself from her duties.

“Perhaps. But I think I’ve already earned a very different reputation for myself here.” Mustang chuckled; it was true, everyone stationed at the Eastern Headquarters had learned not to mess with the no-nonsense lieutenant. 

“We’ll make quite a pair then, I suppose,” he added. “I’ll try not to tarnish your image too much.”

“I should hope not, sir,” she replied. He expected to see the typical disapproval in her expression, but her lips were actually pulled into a rare, small smile. He was glad they were able to tease each other a bit again, and he didn’t want to waste her good mood.

“Well even if I did, I still expect full loyalty. I seem to recall you agreeing to follow me anywhere. Into hell, I believe you said,” he said in a pseudo-serious tone. He hoped she wasn’t offended by him making light of her promise. In reality, it meant more to him than almost anything else. 

“Indeed, sir,” she replied wryly. “As long as you don’t actually become as insufferable as every other—nevermind.”

Mustang searched her face again, trying to decipher whether she was truly irritated, as her words seemed to suggest, or just continuing their banter. He decided to err on the side of caution rather than let her misunderstand his words as mocking rather than flirtatious.

“You know none of it would be real, don’t you? The dates would just be for information, I couldn’t actually go out with one of my sisters,” he scoffed.

“I know that,” she reassured him. 

“Good. Because I wouldn’t want this to push you away somehow. Especially not now.”

Hawkeye finally looked up to meet his eyes. “What do you mean by that, sir?”

“I just mean that we’ve built such a good rapport again. Both here at work and…”

She took his meaning and sighed. “I have to disagree, sir.”

“About what?”

“We do have a good rapport at work. And it’s important we keep it that way, no distractions.”

“I don’t think you’re a distraction,” he insisted. He saw her deflate slightly, giving up on maintaining her usual perfect posture. She knew what he was trying to say.

“Then what do you propose?” she asked sadly. “We sneak around and never let anyone know how close we are, just so we can sleep together?”

Mustang looked affronted. “You know it’s more than that. It’s always been more than that,” he insisted.

“I do,” she admitted. “Which is why I’m not willing to put us through this. We can’t be together in any way. It would never be enough.”

He was confused. He would understand if she didn’t return his feelings. Madame Christmas had raised him better than to resent a woman for rejecting him, after all. But that wasn’t the case. She could read his expression easily and decided to explain, her voice even softer than before.

“Maybe if I loved you a little less, I would be willing to take such a risk.” Roy felt his breath catch. “But I’m not. We can’t afford to fail now when we’re just starting out, and there’s no telling how long it will take to make you the Fuhrer. I promised to follow you anywhere but I can’t do that if we get court martialed. And it’s like I said before, sneaking around would never be enough.”

He nodded silently. It made sense, but that didn’t make his heart hurt any less. He hadn’t truly thought about just how long their mission was going to take, and what it might be like to have Hawkeye by his side as only his adjutant the entire time, maybe their whole lives. As they had been rebuilding their bond after Ishval, it felt like at least part of him was healing. But they both knew their own desires couldn’t come before atoning for their actions. It was selfish to even think of doing such a thing.

“I understand,” he said finally.

“Thank you, sir.”

Their words hung in the air for a few moments. There was more to be said, more rules they should establish just to be safe. That could wait for another day, so they went back to work as if nothing had changed. Hawkeye was still pushing through paperwork and Mustang was reviewing documents to be signed.

“I do miss hearing my name sometimes. The way you would say it,” she broke the silence. “But it’s best if we only ever remain formal, I think. We can’t be too careful.”

“Understood, Lieutenant.”

_We can’t be together in any way,_ she had said, but they both knew she left off a word at the end: yet.

He saw that she hadn’t met his eyes, and was even more intensely focused on her work. Maybe she was just a stronger person than him, less likely to give in to temptation. She deserved a strong partner in life. He supposed he would settle for being a strong commanding officer, at least for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please let me know what you think! I appreciate every reader so much :)
> 
> Also, if any of you are on twitter and want to say hi, I'm @mixedupmixer over there. I don't really post about fma or royai much, but that's just because I don't have any fma mutuals lol (yet). Feel free to find me so we can be bffs!


	4. Elizabeth

As soon as Lieutenant Hawkeye left the office, Colonel Mustang kicked his feet up onto his desk. The few soldiers who remained in the room perceptibly sighed, knowing what was about to happen. He was always the worst when she was gone, as if her presence was the only thing keeping him in check. The rest of his team seemed to be out for the day as well, meaning little work would be completed.

Mustang knew what they thought. He played his part well, sometimes too well. As consistently competent as his unit was, almost everyone at Eastern Command readily accepted his womanizing persona. In all, the plan he and Hawkeye established so long ago worked perfectly; higher ups thought he was an overconfident, non-threatening startup, while lower soldiers respected, or at least envied, his alleged ways with women. Only General Grumman seemed to see straight through him, but he showed no intention of revealing Mustang’s true nature.

Soon enough, the colonel was on the phone. His flirtatious conversations were usually distracting, but he was on a completely different level that day. Mustang’s innuendos echoed through the office, and the subordinates around him could only imagine what was said on the opposite end.

“So when can I see you again?” he asked. “It’s been far too long since I took you out.”

“It might be awhile,” a sweet voice answered. “You could probably afford somewhere much nicer than last time if you wait until you get promoted.”

He chuckled lightly. Most of his conversations with Hawkeye were coded over the phone, and this one was no different. But the mission was at a stand still for the time being, so they were really just waiting and killing time. Her hidden meaning had nothing to do with tracking down a potential rogue alchemist, and everything to do with reminding him that anything real between them would have to wait until he got his ultimate promotion to Fuhrer. 

“Very harsh, Elizabeth. I thought you enjoyed our last outing. That picnic was very well-planned.” 

He had actually taken her on a picnic once, almost a decade ago. It wasn’t anything fancy or even romantic considering they were so young, but the memory stuck out in his mind. Master Hawkeye didn’t know, of course. He had been holed up in his study, too busy to care where his own daughter was being whisked away to by his apprentice.

“The picnic was nice,” she replied. “But your cooking wasn’t.”

The colonel smiled. So she did remember. He had tried to make some bread and a few other snacks for them, but quickly learned that food and alchemy shouldn’t mix.

“Then next time I’ll take you to a nice restaurant. The best places are all in Central, but I can make do here.”

“I guess that’ll have to do. Maybe afterward we could go on a long walk, just the two of us,” she suggested.

“I’d prefer to go dancing.” He really wouldn’t, but it was always fun to contradict her in these stolen moments. He would hear her huff in annoyance, as if he was truly vexing her about their plans; that made it feel like they were almost real, like he really could pull her onto the dance floor in front of anyone and everyone.

“You just like to show off.”

“Can you really fault me for wanting to show off such a beautiful woman?”

“Sometimes you flirt too much for your own good, Roy.”

It was moments like those that would pull him back to reality. Hearing his own name in her voice was a beautiful tragedy. It was the familiarity he wanted so badly, but he knew it was a lie, just a part she was playing for a mission. Whether she meant what she said or not (and he told himself that she really did), their conversations were just fleeting echoes of what couldn’t be. The moment she returned to their office, he would be Colonel Mustang again. 

It was always like this when they made fake calls for missions; he would enjoy himself at first, saying all the things he wanted to tease and flirt with her. Then the fantasy would disappear, and he would remember that just because “Elizabeth” was written on her birth certificate, it was only a persona. The name would start to leave a bitter taste in his mouth, and it held none of the same satisfaction as using the one she had chosen to go by. 

“Are you still there?” Her voice remained bright, but he sensed a hint of worry.

“Yes, sorry. I was just distracted.” 

That seemed to pacify her concern. “You seem to be distracted a lot. It’s amazing you get any work done.”

“You sound like someone else I know,” he said with a soft smile. It was genuine, not one of the fake charismatic smiles he would put on. Even if she didn’t intend to, she had brought him out of his miserable thoughts.

“Well maybe I have a lot in common with this person. Maybe even more than you think.” He could only imagine the smirk on her face. “I should probably let you get back to work. It’s a pretty slow day here, Jaqueline and I haven't had anything to do.”

That meant the operation was a bust. Havoc hadn’t spotted their mark on the ground, and neither had Hawkeye from her perch in the tower. At that point, they might as well as retire for the day.

“I’ll let you go then. Don’t forget to tell Kate I say hello.” Or, don’t forget to tell Fuery he can go home. He had to make sure, since their new sergeant wasn’t listening in on their current call, giving them a precious moment of privacy.

“I will. I’ll talk to you later, Roy.”

“Until next time, Elizabeth.”

He hung up the phone, briefly wondering if he should take the rest of the day off as well. The office had emptied out during his call, which meant no one would notice if he slipped away. But it also meant he wouldn’t have to maintain his image of a slacker either. He glanced at the clock, telling himself to put in a few solid hours of work. That would be a few hours closer to becoming the Fuhrer, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading this little story, and please feel free to let me know what you think in the comments!
> 
> Also! I have some fun news: I've started writing a companion fic to this, which will be another 5+1, but from Riza's perspective focusing on Roy's name. I'm not planning on posting any of it until this one is complete, but I'm super excited :)


	5. Hawkeye

**1915**

In the weeks following the Promised Day, they spent more time together than during the past year combined. Few dared to question Colonel Mustang’s orders that he share a hospital room with his lieutenant, refusing to be separated from her. He argued that he had done the same with Havoc before, but it required no explanation. No one on his team or at the hospital would dream of pulling them apart.

Dr. Marcoh was planning to return in a few days to restore his eyesight. The procedure had gone well with Havoc, and apparently there was enough left of the stone for Mustang to be healed as well. He still hated sitting in the darkness, not being able to look around and confirm that Hawkeye was still there. Even though he couldn’t see the time, he knew it was late and she was probably asleep. In that case, she would have to forgive him.

“Hawkeye?”

There was only silence for a few moments before he heard her shift in bed. 

“Sir?” Her voice was strained from the combination of sleep and lack of use. Her doctors had recommended keeping her head as still as possible for the first few days, which meant she had hardly spoken. It had healed significantly since then, but she was still resting.

“I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“No you’re not. What’s wrong?”

Mustang could feel her eyes on him. They were probably soft with concern, or maybe pity. No, she didn’t pity him. She could worry about him as much as possible, but she would never pity him. It was his own self pity that was clouding his thoughts.

“I just couldn’t sleep.”

“And?” 

“And I needed to make sure you were still there.”

Hawkeye didn’t say anything after that. He briefly wondered if she had gone back to sleep. Then, he heard her feet hit the floor and softly pad toward him. He felt his bed dip as she sat down next to him, taking his hand.

“I’ve always been here, you should know that by now,” she said gently.

“I know,” he conceded. “But it’s hard to tell what’s real sometimes. It’ll all be over soon, but until then it’s just...hard.”

“You’re getting stuck in your head since there’s nothing else to focus on. Especially at night,” she reasoned. 

“Probably,” he agreed.

“Ask me something. I’ll keep talking until you can fall asleep, or at least relax.”

They had done this before. Back when neither could get more than a few hours of rest in the wake of the war, one of them would simply talk over the phone until the other had calmed down. It was always effective, but it was painful to think that it would be even better in person. Now, she was sitting right in front of him, offering that same comfort with the addition of her touch. Mustang ran his hand up hers, tracing up her arm, grazing past her neck to hold her face.

“How did you know it wasn’t me?”

Hawkeye’s cheeks tightened under his contact, telling him she was smiling. “There were many things. I knew you would have kept your guard up until you confirmed my identity. Envy’s posture was all wrong too, like he was trying to stand as straight as possible. For us, it’s natural from being in the military.”

“Very observant,” he complimented.

“That’s not all. You would have scolded me and tried to send me back, wouldn’t you?”

“I guess,” he sighed. “I really didn’t want you around for what I planned to do.”

“Which is exactly why I came.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. You were right and I-”

“I didn’t bring it up to make you feel guilty. You don’t have to apologize.” They sat in silence for a few beats before she continued. “Anyway, those were the reasons I knew it wasn’t you. But I knew Envy wouldn’t just reveal himself if I made a wild accusation, he had to think he was caught. So I said that when we’re alone, you call me Riza.”

His face scrunched in confusion. “But that’s not true. I believe you specifically told me not to call you that.”

“Exactly. We both know that, but apparently it was convincing enough that Envy immediately thought I caught him.”

Mustang didn’t say anything for a while. He had to admit, she made a brilliant move. He wasn’t sure what he would have done, confronted by a fake Hawkeye. He was certain he could recognize whether she was real, whether she was his Hawkeye, but he wondered if he would have still hesitated. He hadn’t when he was faced with the image of Hughes, but Hughes himself hesitated when Envy turned into Gracia. He supposed they would never have to find out. 

“Why did you immediately think about your name to trick Envy?” he asked. “I’m just curious.”

“I guess it’s something I think about a lot,” she answered simply.

He felt her move to go back to her own bed, but grabbed her hand first. “Maybe it’s time we reconsider.” Mustang’s hands were no longer on her face, but the sigh she let out told him her smile had fallen. 

“You know we can’t. We’ve come so far.”

“We almost died, and I don’t want to live without you.”

“You don’t have to, I’m right here. We just need to be patient, and eventually, all this secrecy will be over.” Her hand lightly squeezed his.

“It’s just so close I can taste it. With Bradley gone, we’ve never been closer to our goal.”

“We can’t get ahead of ourselves, sir,” she whispered. “I would promise that as soon as you’re the Fuhrer I’ll be yours, but I already am. Just rest so we can get back to work.”

With that, she went back over to her side of the room, tucking herself back under the covers. Mustang listened as her breath evened out. He was more relaxed than before, he realized. He was more attuned to her presence, and the weight had lifted off his chest.

“Goodnight, Hawkeye.”

She had already drifted off, soon followed by her colonel. He would have his sight back soon, as well as a brand new promotion. He may not have his dream yet, the final promotion that would allow him to rebuild his country alongside the woman he loved, but he had more hope than ever that someday, he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, there's only one more left now! Thank you to everyone who has left comments and kudos, they really mean a lot to me and definitely keep my motivation up for writing :)


	6. Riza

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has read/commented/left kudos! I really loved writing this fic and I appreciate the support so much. Enjoy the last chapter!

**1920**

Major Hawkeye waited nervously outside the door to the Fuhrer’s office. In the weeks since her grandfather had announced his impending retirement, she had been constantly working and campaigning for General Mustang to be named his successor. They had always expected Grumman to hold the position for life, so it came as a great surprise when he called his highest council and revealed that he planned to spend his final years as a civilian. 

General Mustang had been concerned that he hadn’t risen in the ranks enough since the Promised Day; there were other officers vying for the position, and he feared Grumman’s early exit would mean someone with more experience might be selected. If Olivier Armstrong had her way, she would be the Fuhrer for decades and Mustang would never have the opportunity again. Hawkeye had her own similar worries, but she never voiced them. He needed her to be his steadfast supporter.

As she stood in the hallway, she reflected on the happier moments they had since the announcement. After all those years, their goal was finally in sight. Grumman was fond of Mustang after all, and he wasn’t afraid to play favorites when it came to promotions. In all likelihood, her commanding officer _would_ be the Fuhrer of Amestris within the next few days. That meant they had been doing something right all this time, and they would get as close to atoning for their sins as possible.

They had discussed what he would do in the position at great length, but Hawkeye had seldom let herself look beyond her immediate duty to protect him until that day came. Not much had changed since their conversation in the shared hospital room five years earlier, which meant their distance had been well-maintained.

Even so, there were moments when they let themselves be giddy. The night of the announcement, Mustang had spoken to her in his private office and shared the news. He didn’t say anything of rebuilding Ishval or restoring parliament that time. In a voice barely louder than a whisper, as if he might speak too loud and scare the moment away, he had only spoken of what it meant for her. She would no longer need to be his adjutant nor in the military at all, since he planned to significantly reduce its power anyway. She could take a different government position, or perhaps retire and live on her pension for a bit.

Hawkeye knew exactly what that meant. He didn’t say the words out loud, but they could finally be together. It might take a while for her to stop calling him “sir” or for him to stop calling her “Hawkeye” but that didn’t matter. They could laugh and correct themselves, maybe taking up new terms of endearment that normal couples used. She had never been called “darling” or “love” before, and she wondered what he would think of being called “dear.” Most importantly, she could simply hear him say her name after so long. 

Hawkeye reminded herself nothing was set in stone. She couldn’t get ahead of herself and start imagining those things only to be disappointed. Still, it helped knowing he was thinking of the exact same things. The looks they had shared revealed his thoughts clear as day to her. The longing she had seen for years, and even decades, was amplified as if it might overcome him at any moment. 

They didn’t let anything happen though. They were only cautiously optimistic. Mustang and Hawkeye both knew that it would be too painful to let each other go again once they were finally together. That was the whole reason they had maintained their distance (at least physically) for so long, because a relationship with limitations wouldn’t be enough. Once she had a taste of his lips, or even just heard them speak her name in the soft tone that made her melt, she could never go back to only being his subordinate.

Hawkeye wished she had her watch to check the time and see how long Mustang had been in there. It couldn’t possibly take so long for Grumman to reveal who he chose as his successor. It felt like hours, but she knew it was just the anticipation getting to her. Not to mention the letter of resignation requesting an honorable discharge that weighed heavily in her coat pocket. She would hand it over to the General as soon as he relayed the news, if it was good. If not, she would probably burn it and try to pretend she had never written it in the first place.

The door opened and the Major straightened her spine. She saw Mustang and Grumman standing together, their faces neutral. It was ridiculously frustrating not being able to immediately read his mind and know what the answer was. The door closed behind him while the Fuhrer disappeared on the other side. It looked like he was struggling not to let his expression betray his emotions; she didn’t know whether he was fighting off a celebration or disappointment. Her heart rate started to pick up as the seconds stretched on, feeling like they lasted forever.

Finally, he turned to look her in the eyes and let his facade drop. The biggest smile she had ever seen took over his face, scrunching it up. 

“Sir?” she asked hopefully. Hawkeye already knew, but she needed to hear him say it. She needed him to confirm that he would be the Fuhrer and everything they had been working toward had come to fruition. 

“Oh, Riza,” he breathed out.

That was confirmation enough. Relief flooded his voice as he let himself relax. His hands wrapped around her back and she returned his embrace. Her face fit neatly into the crook of his neck as one of his hands came up to rest against the back of her head, holding her closer against him. They both knew they were still at Central Command, and anything further would be inappropriate. All the other things they wanted to do could wait. In that moment, Roy knew that all he needed was to hold Riza.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was a satisfying ending for everyone :) Thank you so much again for reading, please let me know what you think!
> 
> I plan to start posting the companion fic to this next week, so feel free to check that out! The chapters will cover the timeline from young royai days to post-canon, just like this one (and you'll get to see what happens right after this ending!), but from Riza's perspective concerning Roy's name.


End file.
